


Against All Odds

by BookDragon6127



Series: Les Amis Modern One-shots [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-16 16:11:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18694888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookDragon6127/pseuds/BookDragon6127
Summary: Enjolras is too stubborn for his own good and Grantaire is the one who needs to make sure the leader in red doesn't accidentally kill himself in the name of the revolution





	Against All Odds

     Enjolras and Grantaire were viciously going at it again.

“People will show up. I know this for a fact!”

“In this weather! Cops won’t even go outside to arrest you this time!”

“Most people panic in these situations and they go to the pharmacy!”

“Oh yeah because the goddamn pharmacy is where I want to freeze to death!”

“Research shows-“

“CITATION!” Grantaire yelled out suddenly.

“COMBEFERRE!” Enjolras roared back without missing a beat. The student in question sighed and rattled off several websites and articles while Enjolras stood proud. Grantaire gulped nervously.

“bAHOREL?”

“Alla Parmigiana. Veal Parmigiana..10.95 Eggplant Parmigiana...9.95 Chicken Parmigiana..9.95 Shrimp Parmigiana..12.95 Chicken Sorrentino...10.95 Chicken Marsala.......10.95 Chicken Francaise....10.95 Chicken Napoletana..10.95 Chicken Murphy...11.95  Chicken Pizzicati...10.95  
All served over pasta with a side salad!”

     The Les Amis stared at Bahorel as Grantaire pinched the bridge of nose and shook his head in defeat.

“Then it’s settled. I’m going. You can either join me or leave. Either way, I won’t hold it against you,” Enjolras announced to the group. When nobody stood up to join him, he simply nodded and left the cafe, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

 

     A few hours later, Enjolras was still trying to  hand out pamphlets in front of the local pharmacy. Grantaire rolled his eyes and walked over to the frozen leader in red.

“Are you kidding me? Why are you still here? Has anyone even walked by?” he yelled over the howling wind. Enjolras glared at him.

“Yes! I’ve handed out… some.” Before Grantaire could quip back, Enjolras broke into a fit of sneezing.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re fine. Enjolras, come on! Let’s just go inside. My apartment’s only a block from here. You _have_ to go inside!”

“I’m not going inside! There’s still people out here!”

“Enjolras I swear to god, I will carry you out of here!”

“ **I’m afraid you’ll have to carry me then**!” He snapped angrily.

“Fine!” Grantaire roared.

      Before Enjolras could process what was happening, Grantaire lifted Enjolras up of the ground, bridal-style. Enjolras let out an undignified shrieked in shock and tried in vain to shove himself out of Grantaire’s grasp. Grantaire ignored the squirming revolutionary and walked home. When they got to the front of Grantaire’s apartment building, he let go of Enjolras. The revolutionary was blushing furiously from both humiliation and cold. His lips were tinged ever so slightly blue and he was shivering just enough to be noticeable. Grantaire sighed.

“Well Apollo, are you going to come inside or just freeze out here?” He asked. Enjolras huffed indignantly but nodded anyway. Satisfied, Grantaire led him up to his apartment.

     The apartment was small but cozy. Half finished pieces of art were scattered about along with several battered textbooks. Grantaire went over to the kitchenette as Enjolras looked around the room. He picked up one of the pieces of paper that was on a side table. The drawing was done in red and black colored pencil. It was a rough sketch but it depicted an angelic figure in red who seemed to be leading others. After a moment, Enjolras grew a sinking suspicion of who the drawing was supposed to be of.

“Is this me?” He asked quietly, not wanting to sound vain. Grantaire turned around, holding two mugs in his hands. His former smile flattered as he saw the picture that his guest was holding.

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “It turns out that the leader of a revolution is a  good source of inspiration.”

     Enjolras fell quiet. He had always assumed that Grantaire hated him or at least that’s what the cynic’s constant belittlement conveyed. He really didn’t know what to say.

     Sensing the tension, Grantaire quickly continued. “I texted Combeferre. He said he’d be by in a couple of minutes to chew you out and take you home.”

As if on cue, the doorbell buzzed.

“Speak of the devil,” the cynic muttered. Without another word between the two, Enjolras rushed out the door and Grantaire left into the other room, the mugs abandoned on the counter.

     On the ride home, just as Grantaire had said, Combeferre chewed Enjolras out for being an idiot and how stupid he was but the words just washed over Enjolras. He was too busy thinking of the interaction with Grantaire and hoping that maybe he was wrong about the cynic.

* * *

 

     Grantaire has not been seen in  7 days in a row and the Les Amis were growing anxious. He had a tendency to get wrapped up in something and forget that life still exist but this was different. Combeferre and Marius had sent him a dozen messages each to no avail.

"That's it! I'm going to find him and make sure he's not, I don't know, face down in a ditch somewhere," Enjolras announced, getting up from his table full of notes.

"Keep us updated," Courfeyrac said as Enjolras walked out of the cafe.

     Five minutes later, he got to Grantaire's apartment. He knock once, twice, three times. Nothing. Getting annoyed, he tried the door. When it swung open, anxiety started to form in his chest. Out of caution, he pulled out a small knife he had in his pocket.

     "Grantaire," he called out as he walked through the messy apartment. He made his way to Grantaire's room. As Enjolras pushed open the door he was hit square in the eye with a flying tube of paint, a string of curses following. Instantly, he doubled over in pain. When he straighten up, he was seeing through tears and could feel his eye swelling shut.

     Enjolras blinked, trying to see who it was. Whoever it was, had stopped suddenly.

"Enjolras?" The voice asked in confusion. At this point, his suspicions were confirmed.

"Grantaire? What are you doing?" He asked, still trying to make him out.

" What am **I** doing? Enjolras, **you** are the one who broke into my apartment. What are **you** doing?"

"You haven't been seen in a week. We thought something happened. So, I came looking. Then when I find you I get hit in the eye with a paint tube!" Suddenly, Grantaire turned the light on making both boys squint. Grantaire was covered in paint, at least what little Enjolras could see. When Grantaire saw Enjolras' eye, he winced in sympathy.

"Hang on, let me get some ice or something. Sorry about that," he said making his way out of the room. This gave Enjolras a chance to look around the room.

     Empty granola wrappers littered the ground along with crumpled pieces of paper. In one corner, his bed sat with crumpled sheet. In the other, an easel with a painted canvas. As he moved closer, Enjolras was able to make out what it was of. It was an uncanny picture of himself, shouting on a stage of one of their protests. Behind him was the flag that Cosette had made for them - a pastel LGBT flag with the Les Amis cockade in the middle. The painting was beautiful. It showed in color what emotions were brewing in the crowd. It showed Enjolras with fire in his eyes. The painting looked better than a photograph.

"What do you think?" Grantaire's voice came from behind Enjolras. He was holding a bag of frozen peas and a kitchen towel.

"It's amazing! Did you make this?" Enjolras was seriously impressed. He knew Grantaire was good but he didn't know he was _this_ good.

"Yeah, it's due tomorrow as our final," Grantaire said playing it off. "Here, put this on your eye. It should cause the swelling to go down." He pressed the bag of peas lightly on Enjolras' eye. "Sorry, again."

"It's fine. Not the first black eye I've had." The boys sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment before Enjolras asked the question that plagued him all week.

“Why me?”

“I’m sorry?” Grantaire asked in confusion.

“The painting and drawing. Why would you draw me? I thought you hated me.”

     Grantaire started at him for a minute before bursting out laughing much to Enjolras’ dismay.

“Enjolras, I do not hate you. Quite the opposite actually. Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re always criticizing my every move. It seems like you only show up to the meetings just to mock me.”

     Grantaire was still laughing slightly as the revolutionary looked on in confusion.

“Jesus Enjolras, I never hated you. Watching you argue for what you believe in is one of the greatest things in my life. I only instigate you because…” he took a deep breath before continuing. “Because I like you.”

Enjolras stared at the ground for a moment before whispering softly. “I think I like you too.”

Now it was Grantaire’s turn to stare in confusion.

“Really? You do?” He asked excitedly. Grantaire chuckled in bewilderment and Enjolras joined as well. “I always thought you hated _me_ ,” the cynic remarked.

“No! I was just confused about emotions. It’s really cliche but, yeah. I never thought you actually like me back though.”

“That's what I thought too!” Grantaire admitted.

“I feel like an idiot now! I was contemplating asking you out or banning you from the Les Amis. I feel bad now about all of this but it wasn’t entirely my fault, you said that you were trying to instigate me but-”

      Enjolras’ rambling was cut off but Grantaire leaning forward to kiss him. Enjolras was taken aback for a minute but it didn’t last long. Before things could escalate, Grantaire’s bedroom door flew open to Courfeyrac and Combeferre which caused Enjolras and Grantaire to leap apart.

“Aha! You owe me twenty bucks!” Courfeyrac yelled out at Combeferre as Enjolras and Grantaire blushed furiously. 


End file.
